I Will Go To The Garden. I

It Is Hard Going To The Door Cut So Small In The Wall Where The Vision Which Echoes Loneliness Brings A Scent Of Wild Flowers In The Wood.

Love, If You Love Me, Lie Next To Me. Be For Me, Like Rain, The Getting Out Of The Tiredness, The Fatuousness, The Semi- Lust Of Intentional Indifference. Be Wet With A Decent Happiness.

For Love - I Would Split Open Your Head And Put A Candle In Behind The Eyes.

Suddenly The Whole Imagination Of Writing And Editorial And Newspaper And All These Presumptions About Who Am I Reading This, And Who Else Other People May Be, And All That, It's So Grimly Brutal!

My Love's Manners In Bed Are Not To Be Discussed By Me